


The greatest Man I ever knew

by MissKrone, PinaNaponi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Pre-Slash, Severus Snape Redemption, the happy end we all deserve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:13:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29519982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKrone/pseuds/MissKrone, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinaNaponi/pseuds/PinaNaponi
Summary: Harry Potter, who is now an auror, finds himself stumbling over a man who looks just like Severus Snape. But surely that can't be true, he'd seen the man die!My bestie and I had a mighty need to give Snape a very canon-possible redemption arch. This was written as a RPG over the course of several years with long dry streaks in between but "after all this time" it is finished. We're quite proud and hope you enjoy the story.Disclaimer: English is not our first language and the original was written in our mother-tongue. The translation is the work of our dear friend Tinsch. Unfortunately, all Characters belong to JK Rowling and not to us and we claim no intellectual property or seek to benefit from this. Apart from our own private enjoyment, that is.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

To the untrained observer the street looked deserted. No window was lit, the house entrances were cast in deep shadows.  
The cobblestones shimmered in the flickering light of the single street lamp, then there was a whirring sound and suddenly the moon was the only source of light.  
It wasn't a nice area, the houses were dilapidated and after dark only cats dared to come here. But that night not even one of them was out. There were many rumors about this area, one worse than the other; and would only one them prove true, this area was not only rotten but also very dangerous.  
It was perfect.

When a tower clock struck somewhere, a man emerged from the darkness of a small alcove. He was wearing a coat, its hood so big that it didn't reveal his eyes. He wore a big scarf around his neck which also covered his chin and mouth. One short movement, then he had already spotted Harry and with a few quick steps he was with him.  
"I have the information you need." His voice came muffled through his thick scarf.  
Inconspicuously, he pulled a roll of parchment from his coat pocket and, just as inconspicuously, slipped it towards Harry. "Thank you," he whispered and pulled the other person with him, a step backwards into a dark alley. He unrolled the parchment and scanned the lines, then he nodded. His informant disappeared silently into the darkness from which he had come.

Harry tucked the roll of parchment into his cloak and turned, walking purposefully through the fog. At the next corner he pulled a small golden object and let it click once. The light in the street came on again without anyone having noticed.  
Harry kept walking through the damp night, he had to be out of town as soon as possible. Apparating was forbidden in Muggle areas and nothing else was keeping Harry in this rotten, derelict place. Looking ahead he strode, his hood pulled over his face and his collar raised. Reflexively he scanned the few people he passed on the street. Constant vigilance, as Moody would have said.

Again this feeling crept into his chest, that disgusting guilt that had been with him for years and probably would be until his dying day?.  
He had been so thoroughly distracted for a second, he almost careened into a man who came rushing out of an alley at that very moment.  
"S-sorry." Harry muttered, but the other didn't react and just kept walking.  
Harry stopped short. This walk ... the man's silhouette looked so familiar that he forgot to breathe.  
Harry shook his head. That wasn't possible; he had been so lost in thought that his perception must have played tricks on him. It couldn't be.  
He glanced back briefly to make sure, but the man was gone again. Harry tried to ignore his pounding heart and resumed his way through the ugly streets.

Yet, the incident was burned into his brain and he couldn't get his mind off it. It was out of the question that this man could have been Severus Snape. Harry knew he was dead, he had been there when he had taken his last breath.  
He had watched him die.

At the thought of that, Harry felt his throat tighten. The great battle of Hogwarts had been over seven years ago, but the memories haunted him again and again, and with them, his guilty conscience. He would give so much to be able to re-do everything differently, better. If only he had understood back then. He could have saved so many from their death, he could have saved Snape, his secret protector of many years, from his death.

Lost in thought, Harry reached the adjacent forest and thus the Apparation ward. He took a deep breath, looked around once and then disapparated straight into his office. There he dropped into his chair and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey.

Sighing, he pulled the information he received from his coat and let the paper slap on the desk. It had been clear from the start that this information wouldn't really help him. Harry had finished his Auror training with Neville almost four years ago and had been tracking down the remaining Death Eaters ever since. Minister of Magic Shacklebold had wanted Harry to become head of the Auror's Office, but Harry had refused. He didn't want to have a career, he did this job for one reason only. He wanted to make amends for those he couldn't protect. Fred, Moody, Remus and Tonks ... Snape.  
All the people who died for him. Harry felt he had to keep fighting for them. Seven years, and his chest still ached as if he were standing in the great hall again, looking down at their corpses.

He swallowed and took a long sip of whiskey. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with a loud sigh. The lump in his chest was becoming unbearable. "Pull yourself together, Harry. This is not how you’ll bring them back to life either ..." he muttered to himself and then gulped down more of the warming drink.  
And he was right. He wouldn't be able to bring them back to life like that-- he wouldn't bring them back to life at all. The only thing left was to keep them in his memories. And vengeance. As a kind of atonement.

Nobody had expected the problems to immediately vanish after Voldemort's fall. That would have been too easy. After the euphoria of the first few days, it quickly became clear that Voldemort's followers would not simply accept defeat.  
The Dark Lord was dead, this time forever.  
His fellowship, however, still had things worth fighting for-- dodging Azkaban, it being the only possible outcome in case of surrender. Of course some of them hadn’t been able to evade their fate, some of them had good connections and managed to save face…and a lot of them were still on the loose.

That was how they had taken up their fight. And Harry instantly knew without a shadow of doubt that it would be his own fight, too. He and Ron had started Auror training straight out of school, and Neville, surprisingly, had joined them. Harry and Neville had been working as partners for four years now, they trusted each other blindly. Ron quit shortly after finishing the training, which Harry had expected. This was not the kind of job he would have been able to reconcile with his marriage, and when Mione got pregnant, the decision was clear. Ron worked with George for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes now, trying to keep Fred's legacy alive.

Harry felt that lump in his throat again at the thought of Fred. He knew he would never get rid of these images in his head, would be haunted by them in his dreams for the rest of his life. His thoughts began to spin around Snape again. The man he'd met earlier ... it couldn't have been him. Snape was dead, Harry had watched him die, felt his last breath ...  
He jumped up, not wanting to remember the emptiness in these black eyes. Resolutely he grabbed his coat, downed the rest of the whiskey and hurried out of his office.


	2. Chapter 2

A small note settled on Harry Potter's table. At first he deliberately ignored it, he had enough other things to do already.  
A huge pile of paperwork sat on his desk, an unfortunate but unavoidable occupational hazard. But when the little folded-up note rose up fluttering from his desk and began to peck at his forehead like a little bird, he could no longer avoid it.  
With a low sigh, he reached into the air and caught the magical note. It had to be important for it to be so pushy.   
Harry unfolded it and sighed again.  
"Robardes' office immediately!" In red ink.  
Harry got up and made his way through his office door, through the open plan office of the Auror Headquarters to the separate office of Gawain Robardes, who had been the head of this department for several years.  
Neville met him on the way. He grinned happily at him: "Well, were you called to Robardes, too?" Harry nodded. That stank  
of another mission, which meant Harry could put off the unpleasant paperwork a little longer.  
Arriving at their superior's door, Harry took a deep breath and then motioned for Neville to knock. The door popped open on its own and gave view to a circular office lined with shelves.

Gawain Robardes, an imposing man in his late thirties, sat behind the massive desk in the middle of the room. He had thick blond hair and a distinctive scar that ran across his left cheek. He nodded to both of them and asked them to sit down.  
Harry and Neville were on good terms with their boss, almost on friendly ones, so to say. Thus it wasn't surprising that  
Robardes poured them two cups of tea and then smiled at them.

"Potter, the information you received confirms our suspicions?" he asked and Harry nodded. "Well, that means tomorrow you both will travel to Plymouth and from there walk to Landrake. We have to find Macnair!"  
Harry and Neville nodded. Macnair was still a threat to the public; he was the most active and resilient of the remaining Death Eaters and arresting him was the Ministry's top priority right now. That's why Harry and Neville, as the department's top aurors, were entrusted with this case.

Robardes opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a brown parchment envelope.  
"You will lead this mission and you will be responsible for its success or failure, Potter. You both know the rules. No unnecessary risks, if Macnair is not alone, call for reinforcements. The Auror Office cannot afford to lose you. Under no circumstances will you separate. Most importantly, no magic in front of muggles. It is safe to assume that a Death Eater like Macnair wipes his ass with such rules, but should he put curses on your necks we’re counting on your creativity. Exceptions only if he uses an Unforgivable Curse. But we all know how much paperwork that means, and how much extra work for the ministry."  
At his last words, he winked mischievously at Harry, who once again felt a wave of relief and gratitude about being on good terms with their superior. He would probably have loved his job even if he had a choleric, venom-spitting boss, but it was just a lot more pleasant that way.

Harry nodded and took the envelope. Inside he would find all the necessary information and specific instructions. Then they rose, shook hands with Robardes, and said goodbye. They still had some things to prepare before tomorrow.  
Back in his and Neville's office, Harry opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside.  
"From Plymouth to Landrake is an estimated 3 hours walk, we are supposed to start from there around six o'clock in the morning."  
Neville groaned. "Can't they finally settle wizarding families all over England so we can use their chimneys?"  
he whined and Harry laughed.  
In the corridor they said their goodbyes and made arrangements for the morning, starting at sunrise. Harry packed his stuff and then went to the first floor of the ministry to use one of the many chimneys to travel home.  
Sighing, he dropped a handful of flea powder into the fireplace of his choice,almost forgetting to tell the fire its destination before he stepped inside.

A second later he was standing in his dining room brushing the soot off his cloak. Before getting ready for tomorrow's mission he decided to allow himself a glass of scotch. The encounter from a few days ago was still buzzing in his head. This man had looked just like Snape. At least from behind. Harry sighed, he knew very well that he was just fooling himself.  
Snape was dead. Even if hope remained, especially since his body was never found.  
Harry took a sip and felt the warmth build up in his chest. He stretched out on his sofa and closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about it. And he wasn't allowed to. He needed all his focus for tomorrow; he couldn’t use this kind of distraction right now. 

He sunk into sleep without even realizing that he was dozing off. He had a strangely confusing dream of a chase through dark, damp streets. The figure he was chasing seemed to dissolve into smoke more and more the closer he came. When he was about to stretch out his hand to grab the dream figure, he woke up. He still didn't know who or what he was actually chasing, but he had an inkling of what his subconscious was telling him.

A look out of the window told Harry that he must have slept for at least an hour because it was now dark outside.  
"Bloody hell..." Harry groaned, rubbing his stiff neck. In the future he should really seek the comfort of his bed for sleep. For now, he had to get to work, he had preparations to make after all. He would have to get up early in the morning if he wanted shower and possibly get something in his stomach before leaving.  
Harry tended to have his equipment nicely sorted, but it had become a habit of his to check on it before every mission. He got up and started packing,

It was gray and cloudy when Harry and Neville reached the Landrake village sign. They were freezing from the three hour walk and  
the drizzle wasn’t making their job any easier. After a drying spell, they took shelter behind the back of a thicket, where Harry muttered a low "Revelio". When nothing happened, they pulled their hoods over their heads and entered the village. Chatting inconspicuously, they approached Macnair's presumed whereabouts. They came to a halt in front of a run-down brick house, the windows of which were dull and partially cracked; the roof was missing shingles.  
"We're here." Harry whispered, subconsciously slipping his hand under his coat, where he clutched his wand. This gave him the security he needed-- he could not afford nervousness and the resulting mistakes.  
"Well then, let's go!" Neville took the first step and opened the garden gate, which wasn't really necessary considering the rotten fence posts were barely standing up. But in moments of great tension, it could be helpful to rely on old patterns, and so they both used the old gate.

The garden was dilapidated, weeds had overgrown the pavement slabs so that nothing of them could be seen. There wasn't even a need to use a spell on the front door; it just hung crooked on its hinges. Harry's grip on his wand tightened as he pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold of the old house.  
"Do you smell that?" The unmistakable smell of fire hung in the air. It was covered by the musty smell of wet dust and rot, but a fire had burned here no more than a day ago.  
Carefully, so as not to make any of the old floorboards creak, the two Aurors crept through the hallway and peered into the two rooms. At first glance, they seemed empty-- a closer inspection proved that to be true.  
Remnants of charred wood inside the fireplace confirmed the source of the smell with some of the larger logs of firewood even still holding some residual warmth. It could have only been a few hours since someone had been here, but no indications that it had actually been Macnair were to be found in the entire house.

"Either someone warned him or we are just too slow," Neville concluded, disappointed, turning to leave the hut again. Harry followed, still looking around cautiously. The house had clearly been deserted for a few hours, but that didn't mean that Macnair wasn't coming back again. Tracking spells wouldn't work, they knew Macnair was no idiot-- to their regret.  
Back on the wet street, they both looked at each other, a little perplexed. "What do you think, the usual? Bars and stuff?“ Harry asked.Neville nodded. If they had any chance of a clue, it was in a bar. Most Death Eaters weren't careful enough not to indulge a drink or two at some shabby pub.

In cases like these, Harry and Neville were allowed to use Occlumency, which they used to their advantage several times. Then a short 'obliviate' and no host or regular would remember anything. Nobody could risk dragging unsuspecting muggles into something. Neville and Harry headed for the next bar, shabby-looking basement pub,smoky and poorly lit. Neville descended down the stairs with a wrinkled nose and stopped on the first landing to check the situation. Harry was still shivering in front of the entrance and looked around when suddenly a black shadow flitted past him. Harry pulled his hood off in surprise and stared after the figure. It couldn't be!

Could his gut really fool him twice? His heart pounded as he uttered a quiet "Neville ...".  
Without skipping a beat, Harry rushed past a perplexed Neville, chasing the shadowy figure.  
That couldn't ... That had to ... Harry had to see it with his own eyes!


	3. Chapter 3

Harry wiped the wet strands of hair from his forehead, the rain had turned from a light drizzle into a pouring shower. He had arrived at a narrow intersection and could not say for sure which way the fleeing silhouette had gone. But he didn't have time to think too much and turning back was out of the question, so he ran to the left, to the path that led out of town.  
And he was lucky, after a little bend in the alley and a quick sprint, he caught sight of the billowing coat again. Before Harry got close enough to the figure, it disappeared into a small, ramshackle house with a squeaky front door. Exhausted and panting, Harry stopped and stared at the dark green door, hypnotized.

After a few seconds, he came back to his senses, rushing to hide around the nearest corner.  
That couldn't be ... his heart was still pounding in his throat and the sprint hadn't really helped. What was he supposed to do now? Wait? Just knock? Go back again?  
Before Harry could find an answer, a low squeak tore him out of his pondering. As if by no will of his own, Harry craned his head around the corner.

His breath hitched when he saw him. When he finally had certainty.  
Just a split second later, during which Harry could have sworn his heart hadn't beaten, he stepped out of the protective shadow of his corner and presented himself in front of the man.

"Snape!" he gasped breathlessly and tried to catch a glimpse of the deep black eyes. Deep black eyes that looked at him in boundless horror.

"Potter ..." croaked the other man, then looked down and tried to walk past him.

But this time Harry wasn't going to give up just like that. He wouldn't let him go again.  
Not this time.  
Harry took a step to the side and stood in Snape's way.  
He tried to evade him and to step around him, but Harry wouldn't let himself tricked that easily. He grabbed the other by the sleeve and pulled him towards him. He wanted Snape to look him in the eye and tell him what was going on here.

For so long Harry had believed that Severus Snape was dead, had died for him, and now he was standing in front of him and would not explain why he was still alive? Harry couldn't and wouldn't accept that, but Snape seemed less than agreeable. With a surly growl, he tore himself away from him, shouldered a large backpack, and stomped down the muddy path that led out of town without another word.

Harry couldn't believe it. It felt like being caught in some sick dream.or a moment, he just blankly stared after the disappearing figure of his former teacher. But no, he would be out of town in a moment and then apparate and maybe then they would never meet again and Harry would never find out what was going on. What really had happened back then.

"Wait!" He yelled.  
Completely unimpressed, Snape strode on towards the outskirts. Harry came into motion and ran after him. He didn't give a shit that it was raining, that he was completely soaked and that Severus Snape didn't seem too happy to see him.  
"Bloody hell, Sna-" He got no further, Snape had turned around with a wild expression and pressed his hand on Harry's mouth. "Don't you dare bleat my name out loud like that, Potter!" then he turned again and continued his way. Harry thought he was going to burst. The man before him really was Severus Snape. In the flesh. And he had clearly recognized Harry.

What was this frosty behavior about? What the heck was all of this supposed to be? Why didn't he stop and embrace Harry? Or was at least happy to see him? Seven years ... Harry didn't notice the tears coming, nor did hecare. He caught up with Snape but said nothing, just walked alongside him until they reached the village limits. Harry sensed them crossing the magical disapparation ward and grabbed Snape by the arm.

"Don't you think I'll let you disappear like that without an explanation. If you disapparate now, I'll come with you!“ Harry sobbed defiantly at him. Severus Snape apparently still saw no reason to meet his eyes

"Let go," Snape creaked and only then did he turn his face and look Harry in the eye. It was like being back in his school days, so much coldness and aversion lay in the dark eyes. But that couldn't be, Harry knew the truth. It was impossible that they would meet with the indifference of strangers or the hatred of enemies. But that was exactly what Harry was feeling right now and he wasn't going to loosen his grip until he had received some kind of explanation for all this. And he wouldn't fold under the bitter look either.  
But suddenly there seemed to be a shift, as if the cold ice was starting to crack, just a bit.  
"I beg of you, Potter, it’s better for the both of us if you let me go and pretend you never saw me! "  
Was that some twisted sense of responsibility for Harry that Snape had just revealed to him? Still, this wasn't going to do.

"I can't, you have to explain why you're still alive!"

"Damn it, Potter, you've always been pig-headed, but this is clearly the most fucked up timing you've ever had!" hissed Snape.  
Surprised by his unusually vulgar language, Harry loosened his grip a little.  
The desperate look on his former teacher's face clued Harry in on the suspicion that this wasn't just about getting away from him. Something must have caused him to flee. It started to dawn on Harry. He looked at Snape unwaveringly, trying to read his expression.  
"Macnair?" he asked. Snape simply nodded.

"So if you are intelligent enough to deduce my unfortunate predicament, I have to wonder why you would refuse, despite better knowledge, to let me get on with my escape?“ Snape growled.  
Harry looked at the ground but still didn't let go of Snape's sleeve.  
"You can't just run away now and pretend nothing happened. I can't pretend nothing happened!"  
a tear ran down Harry's cheeks again. The very idea tied his stomach into a knot. All that he had wished for during the last few years was now standing right before him, personified and angry, and announced that he never wanted to see him again.

Snape sighed. "Let go..." he said in an unusually soft voice and looked at Harry.  
"I'll explain everything to you. But please let go of me." Stupefied, Harry's grip on Snape's sleeve loosened.  
"We'll meet in six days at the lake where you found the Gryffindor sword. And come under your Invisibility Cloak, by Merlin."  
Harry nodded. The next thing he heard was a soft 'pop' and the personification of Harry's years of agony disappeared into nowhere.

For a moment, Harry simply stood there, staring at the spot where Snape had just been standing. Then he closed his eyes, a small tear dripping from the eyelashes onto his cheek and mixing with the raindrops. He still couldn't quite believe it, Snape was alive. And he would explain everything to him. He’d just have to be patient for six more days.  
At the lake where he'd received the Gryffindor sword... Harry almost smiled bemusedly at the fact that Snape had chosen such a memorable place. He never would have pegged him as someone with much sense for nostalgia.

And just as suddenly as it had come, his brief moment of tranquility ended abruptly. Neville! He'd left him behind just like that, what if something had happened, what with the possibility of Macnair still remaining in town? "No solo missions" was one of the Aurors' most hallowed rules and he had disregarded them. Harry started to run, praying that nothing had happened.


	4. Chapter 4

"Potter, I would have never expected such negligence from you!" He wasn't angry enough for the veins on his forehead to visibly throb; rather than anger, it was sheer disappointment that seeped through Gawain Robardes' voice.  
Fortunately, nothing had happened, Neville had been fine when Harry, panting, found him halfway back to the pub. He merely questioned Harry about his sudden, unexplained disappearance, seeming a bit frazzled, perhaps hurt.  
But even with his friend being willing to let it slide, of course he wouldn’t be able to escape a lecture from his superior. "Tell me, for Merlin's sake, what made you do this?" Robardes hissed and rubbed his hair desperately.

Harry looked up and hesitated. How could he? He wouldn't talk to anyone about it until he himself had a proper understanding of what had happened yesterday.  
"I'm sorry Sir, but I can't tell you. It was private." Robardes glared at Harry angrily. He knew that no one had to explain to Harry why Aurors should be able to separate their private and professional lives. He sighed and buried his face in his hands.  
Harry leaned onto his boss's desk.  
"Sir, I'm sorry. I promise this will never happen again!" Robardes looked up and nodded wearily.  
"Damn it, I know that very well, Potter! You're my best Auror, that's why it pains me that you of all people would make such a beginner's mistake. I hope you realize that I have to give you a week of unpaid leave for this. I cannot give you preferential treatment just because you're good.” He looked almost apologetically at Harry, who nodded in response.

"I know, Sir. Thank you for not starting disciplinary proceedings." Robardes just shook his head defensively.  
„Have a calm week and sort yourself out. I'm sure it won't happen again.” He smiled wearily at Harry, indicating the end of the conversation. Harry thanked him and left the office, relieved.  
Disciplinary proceedings would have been uncomfortable and he thanked Merlin for his boss' leniency. Harry closed the door behind him and leaned against the cold stone wall of the Ministry. Cold drizzle dampened his cheeks. Harry looked up at the sky and sighed. In five days he would meet Snape-- until then, he’d have plenty of time for himself and his thoughts.

The cold breeze made him shiver, so he pulled his coat tighter around himself and set off for home. He could've flooed, but he felt like the cold air would do him good.  
Once home, Harry sighed and fell onto his sofa, letting his eyes wander around the room. Yesterday's events had him thinking about his time back at Hogwarts so often that his bright loft in central London seemed unreal. Sure, his apartment was modern and cozy, but he suddenly missed Hogwarts very much.  
He decided to use one of his days off to visit Hermione, who had been McGonagall's successor for several years now, teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts. Harry's mind wandered back to Snape. And potions class. Occlumency lessons and detention, nocturnal encounters in dark hallways. Harry rubbed his hair and then got up to turn on the kettle.

It was a strange feeling to walk across the majestic castle grounds again. Harry felt almost like he did when he had come to Hogwarts back in the day, eleven years old and knowing nothing of the strange wizarding world and his reputation in it. Everything seemed different somehow and yet familiar. The large gate creaked louder than he remembered, but the curious glances from the students were still the same.

Except, today there was no fear in their eyes. He heard a few older Ravenclaw girls whispering behind his back, giggling as he crossed the great hall on the way to his friend's office. It was a bit of a detour, but he hadn't been able to enjoy the homely atmosphere of the hall and the enchanted ceiling for so long. Just as amazed as a first grader, he walked slowly through the rows of tables and basked in the intense feeling of nostalgia that vibrated through his body. Everything was already set up for Halloween and Harry had always loved it the most in that state.

He opened the small door behind the teachers' table that Snape had used so often to disappear after dinner. A few pondersome minutes later, Harry stood in front of Hermione's office door and knocked twice.  
"Come in," came her voice from inside and Harry hesitantly opened the door.  
Hermione sat behind a large desk and appeared to be correcting tests. Her hair was piled into a tight bun on her head and Harry couldn't suppress a snorting laugh.  
Hermione frowned at him. "Why are you laughing?"  
"You are really starting to resemble Minerva..." Harry grinned and walked over to pull her into his arms. His friend embraced him tightly, then jokingly hit him on the head.  
"You're a git, Harry!" she laughed. "It's nice to have you here..."  
Harry nodded, feeling an affectionate warmth simmer in his chest as he realized just how much he had been missing his best friend’s kind, nurturing disposition over the past few months.

"Shall we go into my chambers and have some tea? I'll ask Dobby to bring us some pie." asked Hermione and Harry raised an eyebrow. "You are asking a house-elf to bring you something?" he grinned.  
"Oh Harry, please! He’s compensated for every time he does that. I treat him like an employee. Even if he whines about it every time. I'm afraid they’ll never shake the self-flagellation..." Hermione sighed, then packed up her things.  
"So, what brings you there? I can hardly believe that you would just visit your old friends like that." A wink told Harry that she hadn't meant it, but his guilty conscience welled up again.  
"Hermione, you don't seriously believe that - okay, well, you got me. There is actually something I would like to talk to you about. It's a little difficult and..." Harry paused and took a long swig from his cup of herbal tea that Herminione had ordered on his behalf.

Hermione propped her head in one hand and gave him a piercing look. It was strange how she had changed in those few years. She had matured, appeared stricter and, above all, more confident. Only the worried look she had always given him had remained the same.  
"Oh, now let’s not pull teeth, I've played that game long enough with you!" she demanded. Apparently she had also gotten bossier. Harry grinned crookedly and began to talk about his late night encounter with Severus Snape. He had to pause again and again to make sure Hermione wouldn't kick him out of the room in disbelief. Certainly, his story didn't sound very plausible. Making it all the worse that it had actually happened to him.

"So what are you going to do now, are you going to meet him?"  
Harry shrugged. "I don't know, Mione. Sure, I want to, at least I kicked all of this off, but he looked so… he behaved so nonchalantly. He was just as cold and standoffish as before. I don't know if I can do this to myself. ”Hermione nodded in understanding, she could only have guessed how much he had been affected by Snape's death and yet it had been obvious in a way. Harry had since become closed off and had rarely allowed himself to show his feelings, which had surely contributed heavily to them losing touch. Who would want to be reminded of their past if said past was anything like Harry’s?

Hermione gently placed her hand on Harry's arm. "Harry, you should go. You know how he is...you should know better. Don't you think you owe it to him? Even if he pretends not to care? "  
Harry nodded. Even just thinking about seeing Snape again had him feeling dread growing inside him. What was he supposed to tell him? And how would Snape react?  
He sighed. "You're right. I will go. If he comes at all. Either way, I still have you to cry to afterwards.“  
Harry laughed dryly. But Hermione knew that he didn't feel like laughing at all.

The two friends talked for a while, about the old days and their current lives, but the mood was dampened and Harry's thoughts kept wandering to the upcoming reunion with his - formerly presumed dead - professor. He had hoped for some distraction, but in the end it wasn't Hermione's fault that he couldn't clear his head. Yet he was grateful for the support he had received.  
So he soon said goodbye to Hermione and, lost in thought, made his way back to his London apartment.

Finally Harry was sitting at his kitchen table, a glass of firewhiskey and ice cubes in front of him. But relaxation eluded him, seeming utterly impossible. A thought had lodged itself in his head and it seemed unwilling to leave anytime soon.

Again and again his gaze wandered past the open living room door to the walnut chest in the back, where in the bottom drawer his past was waiting for him in a small glass vial, which, at that moment, seemed very seductive to him.  
Harry sighed, there was no point. He would have to do this to himself anyway, sooner or later, so why not now. With a squeaky noise, he pushed back his chair and rose. Crouching in front of the chest, he hesitated for a minute, before he finally opened the drawer.

The drawer was mostly empty, save for the small vial, which was carefully embedded in fabric. It was there only to protect his sanctuary, the legacy of Severus Snape.  
With clammy fingers, Harry reached for the little bottle and examined it. Silver mist billowed inside it. It looked just like it had on the day it had crawled out of Snape's temple.  
Harry cradled the vial for a moment, letting himself sink into memories of the day of Snape's death. A mix of devastation and disappointment seized him and, for a moment, threatened to drown him.

Then he opened another drawer and produced a heavy stone bowl. It was Albus Dumbledore's Pensieve, which had been entrusted to him by McGonagall back when he'd entered Auror training. It was, apart from the deluminator that Ron had given him when he'd quit the Auror forces, the only item he had been bequeathed by his former headmaster and mentor. And just like the little vial with Snape's memory, he'd been avoiding this one too.

Sighing once again, Harry uncorked the vial and poured the billowing liquid into the pensieve. He hesitated a moment, then he leaned forward and let himself slide into Severus Snape's memory. A single tear rolled down his cheek, then he finally surrendered to the past.


	5. Chapter 5

The moon's reflection shimmered in the black water of the lake. Harry shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. It was just before Midnight and Harry had reasonable doubt that Snape would show up.

He had pretended to be dead for years, why would he be inclined to tell him what had really happened back then? If explaining himself had meant anything to Snape at all, then surely he wouldn’t have waited until their chance encounter.

Disgruntled, Harry decided to withdraw into the bushes and lean against a tree there. It was a chilly night and he was shivering a little.

A quick glance at his watch filled him with anxiety. It was already one minute past midnight. Snape had always been punctual to a fault, all too real were Harry's memories of his former teacher's notorious tirades whenever he'd been three minutes late for detention.

He was just about to falter when suddenly, less than ten yards away, he heard a soft "pop". Harry listened breathlessly until Snape's slender, pale figure emerged from the dark and looked around.

"I’m here" Harry whispered, hastily pulling the Invisibility Cloak from his head. Snape only looked at him, tight-lipped, and came a few steps closer. "Evening, Potter." he snarled dryly, as if their meeting was just any mundane, everyday casual encounter.

"I didn't think you'd come." said Harry, still eyeing Snape like a suspicious subject.

"Sorry, I was held up." Snape explained curtly and Harry almost had to stifle a chuckle. Of course Snape would apologize for being one minute late.

He cast a shield spell and other assorted protection charms, which Snape registered with an irritated twitch of his eye.

"I wouldn't have thought you capable of that, Potter. Colour me impressed." he snarled, but Harry had missed the smug, almost spiteful grin on that face that would have him grimace any other time. 

"I'm an Auror, professor, I assume you’re aware?" Harry asked plainly. Snape nodded.

„Why did you come, Professor? Last time you didn't seem too keen on explaining anything." Harry asked, noticing how high the tension between the both of them felt all of a sudden.

An icy silence hung between the two men, interrupted only by the rustling of the wind in the leaves and an owl's cry.

"What does that matter?" Snape replied at last, his voice sounding so calculatedly cold that Harry had to bite his lips to avoid protesting.  
He was truly glad that Severus Snape had shown up at all, so he should probably stop acting like a stupid little boy and sabotaging everything now that he had finally come this far. 

Harry sighed and shook his head. "You're right, nothing really."

"I have no idea what I was thinking. You’re exposing both me and yourself to great danger with your petulant attitude. And now that I'm here, I can only hope that your wards are as strong as they look. You have to promise me that you will be satisfied with this single meeting and that you will never look for me again, Potter! "

Harry felt paralyzed by the harsh words, but he nodded.

More Silence. Harry didn't know how to start without immediately annoying his former teacher and Snape himself seemed unwilling to take the first step. But finally he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Please, Professor, tell me what happened back then, why you are not dead. I don't understand any of this!"  
Snape cleared his throat. "I'm going to tell you this exactly once, so listen carefully." he growled and cleared his throat again.

"After you nearly let me bleed to death in the Shrieking Shack," a venomous look followed in Harry's direction, who had to fight the urge to justify himself , "Draco helped me. The coward sneaked away from the battle,followed you into the Shrieking Shack. After you and your two glorious friends had up and made off with my memory, he must have found me. Since I was unconscious, I don't know any details. I woke up in a bed in Malfoy Manor. "

Harry looked at Snape, perplexed. Lucius Malfoy, of all people, had helped Snape, although he most likely must've considered him a traitor by then. Apparently the man was more human than Harry had previously thought.

"And then?" he asked when he noticed the reluctant expression on Snape's face, who looked like he was about to flee the scene.

"What do you think?" Snape asked bitingly, in a tone that suggested Harry would have to fill in the rest of the story by himself from here. He crossed his arms over his chest and in the pale moonlight Harry caught a glimpse of the worn, frayed sleeves of Snape’s black cloak.

Harry didn't say anything, just waited until his former teacher would start talking again.  
"The Malfoys nursed me back to health. Barely." he finally continued again. "And as soon as I was back on my own two feet, Lucius kicked me out. Was too scared. Both sides were after me and the Malfoys had enough trouble saving their own necks at that time. I don't blame them, I was lucky to have survived at all."

He shot him a grim look again, and Harry felt guilt crawl from one of the farthest corners of his consciousness. He wanted to apologize, but he also knew that it might not be very helpful. Not here and not now. And it wasn’t like it would change anything, anyway. 

"And since then ..."  
"Since then I've been on the run. Hiding like a rat. And yes, there have been moments when I wished the Dark Lord's assault on my life had been successful."

Snape had uttered these words with the same callous indifference with which he might have read a shopping list. Harry's insides gave a painful sting.  
"Please, you can’t say something like that!" His eyes glittered pleadingly in the moonlight, but Snape only gave a bitter laugh.

"Believe me, Potter, if you shared my experiences you might find my words relatable ."

Harry snorted. "Oh please, believe me, I’ve seen enough hardship of my own not to pity you! You know exactly-"  
Snape cut him off harshly. "Oh, is this a contest now, Mister Boy-who-lived?" Harry gasped and closed his mouth. Snape was right, arguing about that wouldn't help either of them.

"Why did you never give any sign of life?" he asked instead.  
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you dense? And here I thought being an Auror requires critical thinking skills. “ Snape hissed, but Harry ignored him. He wasn't going to let him get away without an answer.

He had punished himself too much all these years and he was sure that Snape was aware of this. That much logical thinking could be expected of him.

Snape cleared his throat softly, "Although the Dark Lord may no longer be with us, there are still followers who have been spared or remain undetected by the arm of the law. They're tailing me. They do not know for sure that I am alive, but I assume that they have put anyone I might come into contact with under surveillance. Lucius and Draco were the only ones who knew, so I broke off all unnecessary contact with them. You can't get someone to confess what they don't know. I made sure that nobody would be harmed because of me." Snape snorted.

"I've had enough people harmed by my very existence." he added and turned to avoid Harry’s gaze.

For a brief moment, Harry's anger flared up again, the same anger that he had felt back when he'd still believed that Snape had betrayed his parents.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out again. "Don't you think you could at least have given me a hint? Even if there was nobody else who would’ve been safe to tell, surely no Death Eaters would have gotten their hands on me! "He glared sternly at Snape, whose eyes turned into narrow slits.

"Yeah, maybe not on yourself, but on your little friends Weasley and Granger, as soon as they become people of interest. And you've never been  
good at keeping a low profile either, as far as I can remember, "snapped Snape.

Harry looked at him angrily. It stung that Snape apparently still saw the same young student from way back in him, that he’d apparently completely forgotten that years had passed and Harry had grown up. On the other hand, he did tell Hermione about their encounter, so he knew Snape was right about at least that one thing.

"Then why is it that you are talking to me now?" he asked.

"You discovered me, apparently I wasn’t as careful as I could have been. My own fault. I can consider myself lucky that it was just you and not Macnair. Who knows, maybe you would have put up Wanted posters or something stupid! " snapped Snape and his eyes sparked.

Harry looked back defiantly when all of a sudden he was hit by a wave of unease. Something was wrong.  
Under different, less disturbing circumstances, he would have tried to find the reason for his impending sense of doom immediately. As an Auror, his senses were trained and he had learned to trust them, but at that moment he was so puzzled with anger and confusion that he dismissed it. A mistake.

"And now?" Harry asked in a trembling voice, "Now that I know you're alive, that you survived, and I will not ever see you again, for my whole life?” He wanted to say more, but his voice failed him.

"Yes, Potter. You will remove your wards, I will disapparate and hope our paths cross never again. And you will have to deal with it. I am not your friend and I owe you nothing."

Harry wanted to say something, but a deafening explosion of blue light made him wince. Immediately his hand was on his wand and, letting reflex take over, he stepped protectively in front of Snape.

"Potter, your ward!" Snape called and Harry noticed the panic in his harsh voice. The ward shattered. Whoever destroyed it had to be a strong wizard, capable of intricate black magic. A death eater.

Scornful laughter appeared before the body materialized in front of them. Macnair! How had he found them and how could a second rate wizard like him be able to dispel Harry's ward?

"Well, who do we have here? I know some people who will be very happy to hear from you, Severus!" Macnair snarled.

Harry thought no more. His instincts sprung into action and he raised his wand to shoot an "Impedimenta" at Macnair that wasn't well aimed, but gave at least a second while the Death Eater ducked. Harry dove sideways, grabbed Snape's arm and disapparated.


End file.
